Day 24 - Out & About Around Town

Most of the best observations are not the ones we set out to find, but the ones we notice along the way to somewhere else. Imagine my giddy surprise when, on my way back from a midtown lunch waiting for an uptown 1 train at Columbus Circle, I noticed a couple guys in hardhats exposing the gem pictured above as they were ripping off a couple of decades of nondescript glazed tile from on top of it. It was unclear when I was taking this picture if the tile was to remain as part of the current reconstruction project!

Columbus Circle is the latest major subway hub to undergo reconstruction & modernization. The IRT line running through it is on the original subway line inaugurated in October 1904 that ran from City Hall up the east side, across 42nd Street, and then up Broadway to W. 145th Street. The handsome ceramic plaque above indicates that some of the ceramic tile in the station was compliments of the American Encaustic Tiling Co. from Zanesville, Ohio. Encaustic tiling was a decorative form of tiling regaining popularity at the turn of the 20th century due, in some part, to the renewed interest in aesthetic flourishes in municipal and public structures known as the City Beautiful movement and, itself, an outgrown of the World Columbian Exposition in Chicago in 1893. It instigated and celebrated other such wonderful public works as the ornate whimsical entrances of the Paris Metro but is known locally to most people through the thoughtful tile mosaics in subway stations--both in the original and updated--and the birth of the Municipal Art Society.

Day 9 - The Feast of the Giglio

For years in many of the Italian neighborhoods in and around New York, each July, communities come together for several days to celebrate their beloved saints in what are known as Festa del Gigli, or Feasts of the Lily. The celebration consists of lifting and dancing a 5-story, 5-ton wood and plaster obelisk--an outsize lily--around the streets in front of the parish church in the neighborhood. On the shoulders of 125 or so guys. With a brass band on top. And an opera singer. And sometimes a priest.

Depending on which celebration you're considering, sometimes the giglio (pronounced JEEL-yo) is made anew each year in the months leading up to the feast. Other communities build a giglio that lasts several years. The lifters--known as paranza--pile beneath platform of the giglio, put their shoulders to the undersides of the criss-cross of rafters holding it up, and lift on the command of a leader--the capo paranza.

The tradition was carried to America by immigrants from the region Campania. There, in the 5th century, in the town of Nola, about 20 miles east of Naples, the inhabitants celebrated the storied brave act of their beloved Bishop Paulinus. At the time, many of the Nolani were being carried off into African slavery by Vandals. It is said that a widow, whose only son was among a group about to be wrenched away from the Neopolitan suburb, begged Paulinus to intervene in some way. He prevailed upon the Vandals to allow them to substitute himself that the widow's son might stay. Two years later in Africa, Paulinus apparently foretold the death of of his master in a dream eerily similar to one his master also had. Unsettled by the coincidence and not wanting to upset fate, the master granted Paulinus and his Nolani brethren their freedom. Their return was celebrated by the village of Nola with many lilies--gigli--being thrown at the bishop's feet. It is this event that is commemorated by the dance of the giglio in and around Nola--and still in several of the Neopolitan Italian communities in and around New York City.

Today was the East Harlem feast honoring St. Anthony from a neighboring town, Brusciana. It takes place in the erstwhile Italian enclave of East Harlem, on Pleasant Avenue, just east of First Avenue. Some pictures appear below, along with some from the Williamsburg feast a few weeks before honoring St. Paulinus. One of the best moments from this weekend's feast in East Harlem was the "Lifting of the Ford Explorer." Some poor schlep didn't notice the "No Parking This Sunday" sign on the block of the church. The giglio was not able to pass by with the SUV parked there. So before lifting the giglio the paranza all decamped, headed around the corner, and lifted the Explorer onto the sidewalk to make room. I'm a crestfallen that my camera didn't successfully capture it as a movie, as I had hoped.